The both of us wanted what was best for Nix, but neither of us felt like the other could provide it. Even though my opinion of him had changed ever so slightly, I still didn’t think he knew what was best for her. But I didn’t know what to do. I knew Nix should return to her family, but she was her own person who wanted independence. No matter if she were royal or not, would I be terrible to make her go back to Jade Mountain against her will? Would I be setting a poor example by letting Nix stay?
As I thought about it, Qian’s hand accidentally brushed against mine. It was the slightest touch that made me flinch, so slight, I thought it had been an accident. And it seemed to be, because Qian simply rested his hands on the railing once more while he gazed out across the island. He wasn’t a cruel person—at least, I didn’t think so. He wasn’t the enemy. But I had to find a way to get him to see things from my perspective.
I turned, squared my shoulders to him, and said, “Isn’t it better that Nix live the life she wants? A family shouldn’t hold her back.” But I wasn’t her family. Thinking that hurt more than I cared to admit. What was family if not the people we loved? But I wasn’t family like Qian was hers.
Qian’s gaze slid toward me, a hint of danger there, and myheart skipped. “Nix is my top priority,” he said. “Jade Mountain is where she belongs until she finds a suitable match.”
Heat rose to my face. He was unswayed and being stubborn. The same roiling anger in my gut churned, and the bitterness in my mouth needed somewhere to go. “You don’t know her at all. You only want to use her, but you’re claiming it’s for her own good. She doesn’t deserve that.”
Qian leveled his eyes at me again, and I met his gaze unwaveringly. We stood inches apart. I was fuming, but he remained calm and collected, tall and confident.
“You misunderstand me completely,” he said. “My family’s safety is more important to me than any power in the world. Nix knows this. Marriage between other kingdoms ensures it. She must put aside her selfish desires and think of the greater good.”
“The greater good means nothing when freedom is sacrificed,” I said.
“The greater good is nothing but sacrifice.” He said it as if he were stating the obvious.
“I won’t turn my back on my friend,” I said defiantly.
“And I won’t abandon my sister.”
“Then we’re at an impasse.”
“I guess we are.” Qian’s dark eyes peered deeply into mine, but if he saw any anger in them, it didn’t perturb him. To him, I probably looked like a flustered girl with a bad temper. Being this close to him, I noticed that his eyes weren’t dark brown like I originally thought but a deep, almost impossible blue, like the deepest part of the ocean. After what felt like forever, Qian hummed, smiled, and said, “For now.”
Qian took a step backward, then turned on his heels and headed back toward the palace. “My men and I will settle in for a while longer. Let’s talk again tomorrow.”
“You’re not leaving?” I asked.
“Not yet. I’m coming to enjoy our one-on-ones,” he called back to me. “I look forward to seeing more of you, MJ.”
7
That nightIdreamt again.
I flew fast, pleading for something, anything, to help my gnawing hunger, the pain of which was ripping me apart from the inside.
I wanted it to stop. I would do anything.
I beat my wings, soaring through the night sky, swooping over thatched roofs and the tops of palm trees, searching, hunting.
I crested another roof and came upon a row of merchant houses. I stopped to rest on a chimney and sensed a heartbeat. No—two.
In the warm light pouring off their house was a couple standing together under a palm tree, tending to their goats. While their herd grazed, the goats’ cries bleating into the night, the couple kissed. They were both young, a man and a woman, too distracted by each other to notice me. The woman’s red hair cascaded down her back, and the man’s bright blue curls blew in the sea salt breeze as he held her hands so gently, tenderly tracing his thumbs over her delicate skin. The woman leaned into him, melting with bliss.
Young love.
But something inside me snapped, and jealousy, hot and acidic,exploded in my chest. My hands squeezed the chimney, snapping the stone. My mouth watered, fangs dripping, tongue lolling out.
My red sight beat with their hearts. How dare they love so freely? How dare they have it when I didn’t? How dare they flaunt it? My pain spilled out, and it turned into a scream.
The couple looked up at me, terrified.
I leapt down from the roof and pounced.
“No!” I heard myself cry. But my voice was distant. “Stop!”
I blinked, and I was covered in gore. There were no bodies left, nothing recognizable. The air smelled of iron and salt. I dug my hands—claws—into a rib cage, and bones cracked. Warm blood soaked my hands like gloves. I was dressed in it. I wore it like a veil. Blood ran down my chin, down my throat, as I bit into flesh, and the pain went away.
